


Black and Teal Make Purple

by AgentOregon



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Asexual Wash, M/M, asexual tucker, caboose has a nightmare, might be triggering for anxiety idk?, tucker and wash have an emotional convo about accepting your own identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-14 20:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2202549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentOregon/pseuds/AgentOregon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wash and Tucker are going great together, but something seems a little off. Tucker is ashamed to admit that he's not as into sex as his "bow chicka bow wow"s lead everyone to believe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AgentCalifornia (Drake)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drake/gifts).



Wash had spent all day away from the base, and Tucker was getting anxious.

He'd probably cleaned the whole place at least twice now, trying to distract himself. He knew he was probably overreacting. Wash said he was going to take the afternoon to himself, and Tucker understood -- it was hard to have some peace and quiet with Caboose around. But he couldn't help worrying at least a little bit.

Tucker stood next to their bunks, twisting a finger in the drawstring of his sweatpants. He watched a small beetle climb up the wall in the corner of the room. When it was halfway to the ceiling, Tucker grabbed the knife he always kept near his bed, took aim, and threw it at the bug. The blade spun three times in the air before hitting the wall straight on, vibrating as it penetrated an entire foot to the left of the beetle.

"Damn," Tucker breathed.

"Nice shot." Wash was standing in the doorway, his helmet under his arm.

"Hey!" Tucker spun around to see him. "Uh…sorry about the wall."

Wash walked over to the knife and pulled it out of the wall. "Sure…you can fix that tomorrow." He winked at Tucker over his shoulder and drove the knife straight into the beetle.

Tucker rolled his eyes. "Thanks."

Wash ambled over to his bed and sat down, beginning to remove his armor. "How was your day?" he asked, somewhat teasingly.

"I cleaned the place." Tucker motioned vaguely around the room. He glanced sideways at Wash. "And um…I missed you."

Wash grinned up at him. "Were you worried?

"Oh, shut up," Tucker groaned. He shifted his gaze to the floor. "Yeah."

"Aw." Wash chuckled. He was stripping off his last pieces of armor, leaving himself in a thin t-shirt and shorts. He laid down on one half of his bed. "C'mere," he said, staring at the ceiling. He patted the space next to him.

Tucker went to the foot of the bed and jumped, spinning around halfway in the air to land on his back next to Wash, who grunted

"These beds aren't quite made to stand up to that," the freelancer muttered.

Tucker laughed. "Then they definitely won't stand up to what I have in mind." He elbowed Wash in the side. "Bow chicka bow wow."

"Yeah, yeah," Wash said, waving his hand dismissively.

They were silent for a moment. Wash glanced at Tucker, who had his hands resting on his chest. Wash impulsively reached over and took Tucker's hand, pulling it over to rest their hands on his own chest.

Wash stared at the ceiling. "So."

Tucker said nothing.

Wash cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's been a few weeks, huh? Of…us."

Silence.

"I've been…it's made me pretty happy." Wash waited anxiously

Tucker sighed heavily. "Yeah, um…me too." He started to say something else, but his voice caught and he stopped. His finger twitched under Wash's hand.

Wash turned to look at him, frowning. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." Tucker took a shaky breath and slowly pulled his hand away from Wash's. "I'm fine." He sat up, running a hand through his hair. "Is it okay if I…go…" He pointed limply towards the door.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine, um…are you…" Wash stood up hastily. "Are you feeling okay?" He gently put his hand on the back of Tucker's neck -- and quickly pulled away when Tucker flinched.

"I'm fine, Wash," he snapped. "I'll…see you later." He stood up and nearly ran out of the room.

Wash stared after him incredulously. He wondered if -- no, that couldn't be right. He rolled his eyes at himself and laid back down, heaving a sigh as Tucker's footsteps faded.

 

Wash woke up to a painful shout. His eyes snapped open, seeing only darkness. Then --

"Shh, shh, it's okay." Tucker's voice.

Wash didn't move.

"He was here and then -- no! Wait!" Caboose. "Please! Church, don't leave! Church!" He was sobbing. Wash's stomach sank.

"I know, shh, I'm here," Tucker said softly. "Shh, Michael, you'll wake Wash."

"Church…no…" Caboose whimpered. "Don't go! Don't…"

Wash heard the creak of a bed and, once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, saw the silhouette of Tucker sitting on the edge of Caboose's bunk.

"Tucker?..." Caboose asked timidly.

"Yes, I'm here," Tucker murmured.

Squinting, Wash saw movement -- Tucker was gently rubbing Caboose's back.

"Don't leave, Tucker," Caboose begged quietly, finally beginning to catch his breath.

"Never," Tucker assured him.

"You promise?"

"Yeah, Michael, I promise."

Caboose sniffled. "I wish I…made Church promise."

Tucker sighed. "Yeah. I wish I did too."

A minute of silence, save the rhythmic sound of Tucker's hand against Caboose's shirt.

"Tucker?"

"Hmm."

"Do you think Wash will ever leave?"

Tucker glanced over at Wash, who quickly closed his eyes, praying Tucker wouldn't realize he was awake. "I doubt it. I think he's here to stay."

Caboose yawned. "Okay…good…I like him."

"So do I," Tucker said with a smile in his voice.

More silence. Wash opened his eyes again.

"Why did…" Caboose stopped.

Tucker laid down next to him. "What?"

"Why did Church have to go? Why did he leave us here?"

Wash's throat tightened.

"He…he had to take care of some really important things," Tucker said, his voice smaller than before. "Stuff that only he and Carolina can fix."

Caboose sniffled again. "I wish we could have gone with him."

"I know, Michael…me too." Tucker pulled Caboose close to him, wrapping his arms around him as Caboose's body began shaking with more tears. "But we're safer here. He wanted to protect us. And he knows we have Wash."

Caboose buried his face into Tucker's shoulder. "Do you think we'll ever see him again?"

Tucker sighed, rubbing the back of Caboose's head. "I really hope so," he said quietly.

"He never said goodbye," Caboose whimpered, his voice muffled by Tucker's shoulder.

"Then…then that must mean we'll see him again, right?" Tucker insisted, his voice tight. "He owes us at least a goodbye."

Silence again. This time Caboose didn't ask another question. Within minutes his breathing slowed and Wash relaxed, knowing he was finally sleeping. Wash could hear Tucker shifting and expected him to move back to his own bed at any moment -- but instead, Tucker sighed quietly, adjusted his arms around Caboose, and settled into the bed. Wash closed his eyes, too, and managed to sleep after many attempts of silencing Caboose's sobs echoing in his head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tucker learns something that could fix everything he thought was wrong with himself.

Two nights later, Caboose decided he wanted to sleep on the roof of the base.

"By yourself?" Wash asked.

"Yeah…I just wanna look at the stars," Caboose said casually.

Wash and Tucker exchanged a look, both with raised eyebrows.

"Okay, buddy, just…let us know if you need anything," Wash said, shrugging helplessly at Tucker.

"Mmkay," Caboose replied contentedly. He grabbed a thin blanket from his bed and walked bouncily out of the bunk room.

Tucker and Wash, sitting on their own beds, both stared at the doorway.

"What the hell?" Tucker said, his voice rising octaves in pitch on the last word.

Wash threw up his hands. "Who knows," he said. "Caboose himself probably doesn't." He stood up and made his way to Tucker's bed, sitting down beside him. "But at least…we have the place to ourselves, right?"

"Yeah…" Tucker's eyes flickered quickly toward Wash, then to the floor.

Wash pulled his legs up, sitting cross-legged on the bed. After a moment Tucker did the same, facing him.

"This is the first night we have alone, isn't it," Wash said casually, tracing a finger along the blanket.

"I guess it is," Tucker replied, avoiding Wash's gaze.

"Tucker, I'm…" Wash trailed off, sighing quietly. "Hey," he said suddenly.

Tucker looked up at him.

"You've seemed sort of…off, lately. Is there something you need to talk about?"

Tucker forced himself to hold Wash's gaze. "No, I'm fine."

Wash's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Tucker lied again. "I'd tell you if I wasn't, right?"

Wash's jaw clenched. "I would hope so."

Tucker turned away. "Then trust me, I'm okay."

Wash sighed again. "Okay." His tone suddenly changed -- became softer. "Hey…"

Tucker glanced up again. "Yeah?"

The freelancer brought a hand up, placing it gently behind Tucker's neck. Before he could react, Wash was leaning towards him -- his eyes were closed -- their lips touched.

Tucker froze, his eyes wide. His fingers dug into the mattress. _No!_ he screamed internally, praying Wash would somehow hear him. But Wash did not pull away, and Tucker couldn't help it -- he grabbed Wash's shoulder tightly and the freelancer's eyes snapped open as he jerked away from Tucker.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Wash breathed. He slid his hand down Tucker's arm. "I'm so sorry, I --"

"Don't touch me," Tucker hissed, shaking Wash's hand off his arm. He leapt up from the bed, crossing the room to stand facing the wall. He hugged his arms to his chest. _It's okay, it's over now. Breathe, breathe…nothing is going to happen…_

"I'm sorry," Wash said again. "Look, I'm not going to move, I'm staying right here, okay?"

Tucker nodded wordlessly.

"I should have asked," Wash admitted, his voice quieter. "I just assumed…yeah, I assumed you'd…want that. But that was wrong."

"Yeah, it was," Tucker muttered to the wall.

"I won't do it again, I promise." Wash sounded sincere. "Tu-…Lavernius, I'm really sorry."

Tucker took a deep breath and turned around. "Me too," he whispered, staring at the floor.

"No," Wash said calmly. "You have no need to be sorry. You've done nothing wrong."

"But…" Tucker closed his eyes tightly. "But I'm the one who -- who doesn't--" He paused. How the hell do I even say this?

Wash remained silent, waiting.

"I hate sex!" Tucker spat, no longer caring what Wash thought. "I hate kissing, I hate being naked with someone, I hate all of it. I can't do it." He was breathing hard, frantically. _Hold it together._

Wash made a small noise -- of realization? -- but said nothing else. Waiting again.

The words flowed out of him uncontrollably. "I never liked it. But everyone else did. I always pretend to be into it and make dirty jokes all the time and be obsessed with porn and all that shit because I always thought that's what I was supposed to do!But I hate it! And I don't…I don't get it." He finally caught his breath. "I don't get it."

"You don't get what?" Wash asked gently.

"Why people do it. What's so great about it? Why do you need it? What makes you want to touch someone in that way?"

"Hm." Wash was smiling.

Tucker looked at him helplessly.

Wash motioned at the bed. "Come sit down?"

Tucker paused, his arms still crossed. He heaved a sigh and climbed onto the bed next to Wash.

"Tucker," Wash said thoughtfully, "are you attracted to me?"

"Wh-- yeah?" Tucker said, confused. "I mean, I-- I like you, and everything…"

"Yes," Wash said, "but…visually. What do you think when you look at me?"

Tucker hesitated. "Um…I think you're…nice to look at," he said awkwardly. "But…that's it?"

"So you wouldn't describe me as 'sexy,' for example," Wash suggested, still oddly casual.

"Um…no? I guess not." Tucker paused. Wash waited. "I've never been attracted to anyone like that."

There was another pause.

"Tucker," Wash said gently, "there's a word for that."

Tucker braced himself. _Freak? Weird? Abnormal?_ He closed his eyes. _Broken?_

"You're asexual," Wash said, smiling.

Tucker's eyes flew open. He stared at Wash, his brow furrowed. "Um…I'm a sexual? That's…the exact opposite of…did you hear what I just said?"

Wash laughed. "No, no," he corrected, still smiling, "asexual. One word. You don't feel sexual attraction."

Tucker eyes widened. "That's a thing?"

Wash nodded. "It is. And it sounds to me like that's what you are."

"So…" Tucker blinked, still in shock. "Then I'm -- not broken?"

"Of course not!" Wash insisted. "Oh, and bonus: I'm the same way." He half-smiled gently. "And it's absolutely normal."

"You are?" Tucker was shocked again. "But you…" he trailed off. "Wow," he said simply, pushing away his other questions. "I had no idea…"

"I know," Wash said kindly. "And it might not make it easier, just knowing that." He sighed. "It still might take some time for it to be…okay."

Tucker wasn't quite sure what he meant. "Well…um…okay," he said slowly. "Can I…ask some questions?"

Wash nodded enthusiastically. "Of course."

Tucker took a deep breath. _Where do I begin?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tucker isn't convinced that he's normal -- that he's not broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible trigger warning -- character experiences something of an anxiety attack.

"If you're asexual, how come you kissed me?" was Tucker's first question.

Wash's face was what one might call lightish-red. "Well…I happen to enjoy it," he said awkwardly. "People have different preferences…to me, kissing is just a sign of affection."

Tucker thought this over. "Does it make me weird if I don't like it?"

Wash shook his head quickly. "Not at all."

"Okay." Tucker felt uneasy. "Did you ever act like you, y'know, liked it…or pretended you were attracted to someone?"

Wash nodded slowly. "I used to, all the time. During Project Freelancer…" He shook his head, smiling slightly. "I thought it would be the ultimate crime to them, me being like this. In fact," he said thoughtfully, "it was during that time when I learned about who I am, too. It was…yes, it was South. She was never afraid to call anyone out on anything." He chuckled. "One time she was teasing me about spending so much time with…uh, one of the other agents, and I got so fed up with her innuendos that I just exclaimed to her, 'We don't do that!' She was kind of offended that I'd yell at her like that, but then a few moments later she said 'So are you asexual, then?' I had no idea what it meant, either. She managed to be serious for long enough to explain it to me. After that…" He shrugged. "It wasn't so hard to get rid of the idea that I was a freak. I knew that there were other people like me."

Tucker was silent. Wash added, "I think that's why I was so…forward, with kissing you. Because of the freelancers." He chuckled dryly. "I got all my tips from people who specialize in forcing their way into buildings occupied by armies." He shook his head in disapproval at himself.

Tucker smiled halfheartedly, staring at the floor. "I guess that makes sense," he said distractedly.

There was silence again.

"But, Wash…" Tucker began quietly. "I don't even like being touched." His throat tightened as he tried to blink away the stinging in his eyes.

"I know, it's okay--"

"Not really!" Tucker snapped. "How messed up must I be, that I cringe when our shoulders touch? How can that be 'normal?'" He put a hand to his forehead, trying to keep himself from panicking again. "How in hell am I supposed to show you that I love you when I can't even bring myself to hold your hand?" His voice cracked. It only fueled his frustration. "I'm fucked up. I always have been." He clenched a fist around the blanket. "I'm supposed -- to kiss you. I'm supposed to hug you. I'm supposed to hold you and…want you. But I don't. I can't…can't make myself do it." He closed his eyes tightly. "I wish I could make you happy. I wish I could do what you like. It's not even sex!" he exclaimed incredulously at the ceiling. "He doesn't even want sex! Not even close to it…he just…wants…" He stopped, breathless, releasing the blanket from his grasp. He dropped his head and leaned into Wash's chest. "I'm supposed to be able to...do that..."

Wash cautiously put an arm around Tucker, supporting him. "Listen," he said gently. Tucker nodded once. "You're not 'supposed' to do anything, you hear me? You deserve to choose what you do and don't want to do." He rubbed Tucker's back slowly, trying to get him to breathe normally. "And it doesn't matter what I want."

"It matters to me,"  Tucker interrupted quietly.

"I appreciate that, but if it's something that makes you uncomfortable, then I don't want to do it," Wash said with certainty. "The physical stuff -- even if you think it shouldn't be that extreme, like kissing -- I can live without. Living without you, though…not as easy." He held Tucker's head to his shoulder.

Tucker mumbled something inaudible. Wash pulled away quickly, sitting up. "God damn it, I'm sorry--"

Tucker glanced sideways at him and shook his head. "It's okay," he said tiredly. "That wasn't bad."  He gave a small smile.

Wash half-smiled too, though he was admittedly confused -- why didn't that contact bother Tucker? "Okay, good," was all he said in response.

Tucker glanced down. "Sorry about the..." He tilted his head at the blanket. It was slightly torn where Tucker had grabbed it.

"Don’t worry about it," Wash assured him gently.

They were silent for a few minutes. Tucker eventually moved over to his own bed, lying down on his back. Wash did the same.

They stared at the ceiling. After nearly half an hour Tucker's breathing was finally back to normal.

Wash closed his eyes briefly, daring to ask -- "Tucker? I have a question."

"Hmm."

"If you don't like being touched…" He paused. No reaction yet. "Why did you sleep next to Caboose the other night?"

Silence. _Fuck._

"You were awake?" Tucker's voice was bewildered.

"I…yeah."

"Well, that…was different."

Wash frowned slightly. "I don't see how."

"Oh, okay," Tucker said, his tone sharper. "It was different because he needed me, Wash. When Caboose has nightmares, cuddling like that is the only way to calm him down. That's the only way for him to be sure that someone's really there for him."

Wash hesitated. "Oh. I didn't know…"

"Obviously," Tucker said. Wash could almost hear him roll his eyes.

"So then…" Wash paused again. Nothing. "Why was it okay, earlier? When you where...uh, talking."

"Again, different," Tucker said, exasperated. "I was fucking screaming. We were kind of preoccupied, don't you think? It wasn't gonna go anywhere."

Wash waited for an explanation.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked carefully.

"I mean…" Tucker was confused too. "Uh…" He sat up, staring at the end of his bed. "I think…I don't like touching or kissing or whatever because…it leads to other things. It's okay when it's…platonic?" _Is that the right word?_ "But when it's…with someone I'm in a relationship with, then it's…scary." He looked up at Wash without moving his head. "I'm afraid it'll go further than I want."

Wash sat up too, staring at Tucker. "So…you don't trust me?" His voice was full of pain. "You know I wouldn't want to go any further. Don't you trust me?" he pleaded.

"It's not like that, come on," Tucker argued. "You know that. I trust you. It's just…I guess it's just complicated…" He wasn't sure anymore. Wash was right, why couldn't he trust him?...

"Look…if you aren't going to believe what I say, what I promise you, then I don't know what else to do," Wash said coldly. "I'll let you think it over." He stood up and grabbed his blanket. "See you in the morning."

Tucker was helpless as he stared after Wash. The freelancer stopped in the doorway, his back to Tucker.

"I'd only had one other person like me before," he said quietly. "And he's dead now." He turned his head slightly over his shoulder. "I thought for a moment there that you and I were the same, too. Now I'm not so sure."

Before Tucker could protest again, Wash was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I must give credit for most of the concept, some of the plot points, and a couple of the zinging one-liners to my fellow asexual friend, AgentCalifornia.


End file.
